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bojack - chrome hearts lyrics

[intro]
(enrgy made this one)
d+mn, this sh+t crazy (real sh+t)
they playin’ me everywhere (on god)
bro, i ain’t gon’ lie, i knew this sh+t was gon’ happen, i knew it (no bullsh+t)

[verse]
hundred k on the first song i dropped, y’all could never do that
we smoked his whole team like, where the f+ck his crew at?
shot up the whole block, they ain’t never shoot back
ten k for the watch, one k for the hat
yeah, this that chrome hearts
how the f+ck you pay for the dinner? ain’t got no parts
how thе f+ck you fat and a fed? your name paul blart
how the f+ck i scam tеn phones off of walmart?
it’s probably ’cause i’m like that
don’t text your b+tch while i hit, she won’t write back
stab a opp with the shank, then take the knife back
every time i took a l, b+tch, i came right back
your man’s begging for a buck, he a broke f+ck
only smoke bumfeet, b+tch, i don’t smoke runtz
bulk packs only, b+tch, i’m your plug’s plug
hit a opp with a headshot, that’s a one+done
bro, you is not gon’ cop sh+t, you got no funds
you ain’t never shot sh+t, you got no guns
first, we gon’ catch the body then we roll up (roll up)
dare yo’ ass to rob me, i got the pole tucked
take his bread, then block ’em, he done got jugged
sippin’ red, with bumfeet in my d+mn blunt
you got no bread, how you ain’t touch a band once?
that sh+t so pathetic to see
so many opps shot, get a medic on the scene
scammin’ on the vpn, they can’t see the ip
walk up in the club, they ain’t tryna see no id
walk up in the club and you know i’m bringin’ my heat
you be smokin’ reggie, i ain’t tryna hit your weed
i be sippin’ red lean, man, my cup f+ckin’ bleedin’
i’m shootin’ at your team like jimmy butler on the heat
draco with triple d’s, call me russ’ in ’17 (triple double)
how you startin’ beef and then you run off on the beef?
how he had his heat and still got left up on the street?
plug tryna get me, i done ran off with his p
why would i pay for it? i take your cannabis for free
this dirty b+tch smell like a can of f+ckin’ beans
she could f+ck you but she could never f+ck me
it would be a dumb move tryna ever front me
can’t talk about the opps ’cause every single one sleep (dead)
except for a couple, but we gon’ get ’em trust me
that glock finna rumble, you ain’t finna touch me
put your mans on the ground for his bust down piece
you ain’t really on sh+t, you’s a kutztown freak
bullets big as h+ll, they could cut down trees
you ain’t never had a smell of this bumfeet weed
you ain’t never made a sale, can’t talk to me
call my gun a d+mn dog, it’s gon’ walk with me

- bojack lyrics

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